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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223925">Champagne Problems</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingsfromafangirl/pseuds/writingsfromafangirl'>writingsfromafangirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, Rejection, Sad, Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Tumblr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:27:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223925</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingsfromafangirl/pseuds/writingsfromafangirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries proposing but you breakdown before he can even get the words out. It takes a bit, but a an attempt at a heart-to-heart gets you two through it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester &amp; You, Dean Winchester/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Champagne Problems</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Partly inspired by: "Champagne Problems" by Taylor Swift - ok so what if I’m obsessed with evermore. This album (and folklore) have given me such wonderful inspiration and I am grateful for that. I did take some creative liberties here as the song does not give us a conclusion to the problem at hand so just a heads up. I like to think maybe there would be a happy ending. Also, I am sorry I think this came out sadder than intended at first.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Sometimes you just don’t know the answer</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Till someone’s on their knees and asks you"</em>
</p>
<p>The ring had been in his bedside drawer for as long as he could remember. Weeks or months even, Dean felt he knew what he wanted with you but nothing was solidified until he saw that ring in the windows of a jewelry store. </p>
<p>He and Sam had been out on a hunt that took them through a little dainty town. You had stayed behind as the researcher holding down the fort. To your relief, it had been a fairly simple case. Everything had been checked and cleared within a day or two but the boys wanted some lunch before heading back on the road. </p>
<p>As they were making their way to the diner, Dean saw it. There the ring sat, glimmering so joyfully and pure in this town’s little old jewelry shop. He stopped dead in his tracks staring at it, confusing the younger Winchester. When questioned, Dean just motioned for Sam to come look. Once Sam put the pieces together, he was stunned, to say the least. He figured Dean had to have been thinking about this for a while if a ring was in question. Agreeing that it would look perfect on your hand, Dean happily made the purchase right on the spot. Sam noted the new pep in his brother’s step as they continued on to the diner. </p>
<p>On the way back, Sam couldn’t help but grab some champagne from a rundown liquor store just off the highway. He toasted his brother, congratulating him on such a big step. Dean laughed and said you hadn’t even said yes. It was early for celebrating. Sam dismissed this, totally doubting you could ever say anything but yes. Dean admittedly agreed and they toasted.</p>
<p>When they returned, Dean buried the ring in his bedside drawer and there it sat for a while. He couldn’t really figure out the "right" time — as if such time actually existed. He pondered it around Valentine’s Day but held back thinking maybe you would expect that. He seriously considered your birthday — even had the ring in his pocket and everything — but when you looked at him after blowing out the candles on your cake, he realized he didn’t want it to look like another present. </p>
<p>The holidays were coming up and Dean was finally itching to just get the question out there. To hell with the cheesiness or predictability. He was asking his darling, his love, his sunshine, to fully be his other half. Still wanting it to be its own special thing, Dean didn’t do it on a holiday but instead around a holiday.</p>
<p>On the calendar, it was that weird time in the year — right after Christmas but just before the New Year — but to Dean, it seemed ideal. He wanted you and him to remember this moment, something he found glorious, but little did he knew you two would certainly remember it for other reasons.</p>
<p>He made reservations at a fairly nice restaurant just in town. You two had never really been ones for formal dinners so you got a bit suspicious when he said he’d like to try it out. </p>
<p>"That doesn’t seem like your kind of taste," you said, laying on the couch flipping through a magazine. Your legs were resting on Dean’s lap as he sat upright at the other end. </p>
<p>Running his hands on your jean-covered legs, he simply responded, "I’ve heard some good reviews about it."</p>
<p>You frowned in confusion but decided to let it go. Maybe he did just want to try something new. You weren’t going to turn it down. It had been who knows long since you had a real excuse to get dressed up for dinner.</p>
<p>As the night arrived, you could tell something was up with Dean. He was much more… enthusiastic to get to this restaurant. Of course, it flattered you, but also raised some alarms in your head. When did your hunting, beer-loving, rough around the edges boyfriend ever act like putting on a suit for dinner was cause for celebration?</p>
<p>Nevertheless, you continued putting your look together. You had on one of your nicest, knee-length black dresses you kept stashed away in the back of the closet. They didn’t tend to get a lot of use as you weren’t exactly one to dress up for the hell of it but you always kept them around for pleasant surprises like this.</p>
<p>Dean was a total gentleman, holding the doors and pulling your seat out. You didn’t expect anything less from him but the extra attention to details he seemed to be playing with just made you feel something deep within you. You didn’t quite know what the feeling was but it was strong in your gut. </p>
<p>Pieces were starting to fit into place in your brain when you noticed the waiter brought over some surprisingly expensive champagne. You were just finishing your soup when it was placed between you two. Reading the label, it sounded quite fancy. Despite attempts to ignore it, you realized there was something bigger going on here. </p>
<p>Dean ever so shakily began pouring you a glass of champagne as your empty soup bowl was being replaced by a delectable cut of steak. Your appetite was suddenly missing as you started noting the signs that were right in front of you the entire time.</p>
<p>You barely registered Dean saying your name. You peeled your gaze away from the food and looked across at your rather anxious boyfriend. He was reaching in his pocket for something and everything hit you all at once in shuddering waves. What felt like pounds and pounds of brick crashed into your gut. Your expression, though, must not have given anything away as Dean began his speech.</p>
<p>"I know this is a weird time to do this and—and I was going to wait until after dinner but it’s getting harder to keep it in," Dean chuckled, taking a moment to get his thoughts together. He began to get up, ready to do this properly.</p>
<p>And that’s when the little velvet box made its grand appearance. Like a bomb ready to destroy anything in its path except it was only made for you. It was going to destroy you. </p>
<p>Refusing to take your eyes off the ring box, you started speaking, "Dean, I-,"</p>
<p>"Darling, please. I had a whole speech prepared-,"</p>
<p>Your words slipped out. "Dean, no." </p>
<p>Everything felt like it went silent. No more patrons, no more bustling kitchen, no more royalty-free classical music playing over the speakers. Just you two and the bomb that was ready to pop off. </p>
<p>"No to the speech or no to the…" Dean was suddenly speechless. He had spent a bit on this proposal, constantly going back and forth with Sam about what the right words were, and now here he was. Totally at a loss. His mind went completely empty as he was now the one piecing things together.</p>
<p>"No," you choked out, trying to fight back the inevitable tears and pathetic sniffles. "No to it all. At least not right now."</p>
<p>The silence was truly deafening. You looked back up at your boyfriend (or perhaps your <em>ex</em>-boyfriend) only to find him intensely staring at the glass of fancy champagne he had ordered. The bubbles were floating and popping away as if killing themselves on the surface, no doubt looking much like what you did to your relationship. Floated and popped away. </p>
<p>"Well," Dean coughed, mostly suppressing tears ready to form, "we should probably get these meals to go."</p>
<p>Your jaw dropped. That was his focus? Of course, that was his focus. What on Earth did you expect him to say to your rejection. To your marriage proposal rejection. The pit in your stomach grew even stronger as you worked to hide your mixed emotions. </p>
<p>All you could do at this point was nod your head in silent agreement. </p>
<p>When the meal was packed and paid for, you started gathering your items to leave. The champagne glasses still sat, so silent and useless. You felt bad for the bottle as something this lovely should’ve been popped for a real occasion. </p>
<p>In a last-second decision, you grabbed your glass and gulped the champagne down. Despite being slightly mixed with the tears that still ran down your face, it was a lovely drink. Dean just stared at you with an unreadable expression. </p>
<p>Placing your glass back on the table, you collected your purse and headed for the exit. </p>
<p>The drive back was silent which you couldn’t determine was a good or bad thing. Maybe you did want Dean to be just absolutely off his rockers at your response. Maybe you would feel better if he was crying and screaming in your face. Maybe you just wanted him to say something. But maybe the silence was comforting. It gave you a second to recompose yourself, especially in preparation to face the other Winchester who, without a doubt, absolutely knew what Dean had planned. </p>
<p>At least this drive gave you a second to even understand yourself. You didn’t quite know why no was your immediate response nor did you fully understand why it filled you with so much fear to get married. It just seemed like something too big for you, too grand in the scheme of everything. You couldn’t quite trust it having seen many relationships around you fall apart time and time again. It was unknown and nothing could be guaranteed — filling you with an unexplainable amount of anxiety. </p>
<p>It was quite a shame, really. You loved your relationship with Dean. Practically already married and living with one another, you weren’t sure what would change but that, your brain reminded you, didn’t mean nothing would. It was just heavy and it was making your mind feel heavy. The anxiety was bubbling away in you, making you wish it would all just pop like the abandoned bottle of champagne you had sympathy for.</p>
<p>Arriving back, the walk from the car to the door was just as dreadfully quiet as the ride had been. The only glimmer of hope that could be found was Dean holding the door for you. You shot him a weak thankful smile through the streaked mascara still running down your face. He stared at his shoes.</p>
<p>As predicted, you were greeted by smiling Sam standing in the middle of the room with more drinks poured, giddy as ever. When you and Dean made it in and faced him, his entire stance did a total reverse. Sam didn’t even have to ask a single question. Quickly apologizing, he embarrassingly cleared the drinks and left for the kitchen, mumbling that you two clearly needed to be alone. You scoffed, kicking your high heels against the floor. </p>
<p>"Think I’m gonna get cleaned up and head to a hotel for the night," you mumbled, slipping your shoes off and trying to wipe away the now-dried tears. Dean didn’t respond for a second, making you think you were in the clear, but as you picked up your heels and headed towards the shared bedroom, he registered your actions and spoke.</p>
<p>"What? Now you’re going to leave?" Dean asked, a mix of anger and sadness dripping from his words. His hoarse voice cut through the tension you sadly created. "You’re going to do that and leave?"</p>
<p>You stopped in your tracks. Sighing, you turned back to him watching his disappointment bubble just as your emotions were. </p>
<p>"Shall I just sleep out in the car?" You snapped back.</p>
<p>Dean groaned in frustration, running his hands defeatedly through his hair. "Forget about that shit. We’re talking this through right now."</p>
<p>Your heart pounded at his words. He pointed towards the table and took a seat at one end, waiting annoyed but patiently for you to take a seat. You glanced between the chair and your heartbroken boyfriend. You could just walk out of here, you thought. What was stopping you? </p>
<p>Guilt. Guilt was stopping you. Leaving this open, the wounds possibly too delicate for you to ever move on from. This probably still should wait until the morning, you thought, but that option seemed to have never been on the table. </p>
<p>Swallowing the rising anxiety, you placed your shoes back on the ground and took the seat next to Dean.</p>
<p>From the look on his face, you could tell Dean was not ready to waste any time. </p>
<p>"Are you just- Do you not want to be together anymore?" </p>
<p>And there was the doubt you knew you planted in his brain, but who could blame him? That’s what it looked like despite how far from the truth it was. Your posture drooped at the question, eyes averting to your red nail polish. You had done them so nicely for today but now had the urge to pick it all away.</p>
<p>"No, Dean, I love you-," </p>
<p>Dean scoffed and you knew his eyes rolled in complete and utter doubt. You bit back the second wave of tears and continued.</p>
<p>"I do, I love you so gosh darn much," your words were coming out in pleas. "I’m just not ready. It’s… it’s way too much for me right now."</p>
<p>"How?" Dean asked. Full defense was up. "We’ve been together for almost three years. How could this make anything different?"</p>
<p>You sighed, "Did you ever really think about this? Did you think about what marriage can do to people? We could be strangers sharing a bed within a year. I’ve seen it at its best and I’ve seen it at its worst, Dean."</p>
<p>"Seems like we’re already strangers sharing a bed since we’re clearly not on the same page," he snapped back.</p>
<p>"You’re being absolutely ridiculous," your words choked out. "I love you to death, but I just don’t think I’m ready for it, yet."</p>
<p>There was no stopping the tears now. You didn’t know how to convince him it wasn’t him, it was you, and that you just liked the position you were in right now. You didn’t see the point of putting this kind of stress on a relationship. It seemed highly unlikely this man could file for a marriage certification anyway. It was the gesture, sure, that seemed to be what it was about, but something was eating away at you.</p>
<p>You didn’t know what else to say so you leaned back in your chair and stared up at the ceiling. One more glance at that wrecked man and you didn’t know what you’d say next. Hell, you might’ve just went back on your words to begin with, no matter what your gut was yelling.</p>
<p>But, thankfully, seeing the state you were in, Dean bit back on any more attacks. He still didn’t fully understand what had happened to you, but from your brief explanation, there was something clawing its way at you. </p>
<p>"Honey," Dean cleared his throat, "I’m sorry. I was just… I thought this was what you wanted too and I guess… I guess we should’ve discussed it first."</p>
<p>You gulped, letting your tears dry before turning to him. You couldn’t help but agree with that position. You certainly felt blindsided by the question — especially in a public space. God, who knows what the hell the waiter thought.</p>
<p>Testing the waters, you reached for Dean’s hand that was resting on the table. Thankfully, he accepted the gesture. </p>
<p>"I’m sorry," you said. "You gotta believe I really am. I love you to the moon and back, Dean, and I’m sorry for doing that. Maybe one day but there are some things I gotta figure out, okay?"</p>
<p>He nodded and your anxiety slowly bubbled back down. </p>
<p>"Do you… are we still…"</p>
<p>"I’ll have you if you’ll have me." You whispered, "Fucked up head and everything."</p>
<p>Dean gave a weak chuckle, shifting the mood a bit better. He wiped away a few tears and said, "Hey, you got all the fucked up parts of me."</p>
<p>You smiled, genuinely, for the first time pretty much all day. </p>
<p>Sighing, you looked around at the place, remembering how Sam was so excited to welcome back what he thought would be a newly engaged couple. </p>
<p>"I know we didn’t exactly… ya know… but do you think Sam will let us have those drinks anyway?" </p>
<p>Dean smiled and brought your hand to his mouth, giving it an ever so gentle, sweet kiss. "Probably. Assuming he didn’t finish them first."</p>
<p>With a sad smile, you said, "I don’t deserve you."</p>
<p>"I think we’re gonna be just fine for one another," Dean replied. "Forever."</p>
<p>You gulped and nodded, watching as he began brushing his thumb on the back of your hand lovingly. </p>
<p>Dean didn’t think this was how he’d be taking your hand tonight and he certainly noted it as he ran his thumb over your empty ring finger. The look in his eyes when he did this didn’t go unnoticed by you and it broke your heart just a little bit more. </p>
<p>But there was time, you told yourself and hoped that you had convinced him. You were going to talk and ponder over it. Fix your heart and take that glorious ring so happily. </p>
<p>You didn’t even know what it looked like but your heart told you that since it was from Dean, it was going to be perfect. And when everything fell into place, you’d show it off as if it was a badge of honor. Truly, in some ways, maybe it would be. </p>
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